Days

On a day like any other, perhaps in the winter,

You whispered sweet words and sweeter lies intermingled.

“I love you, and want nothing but the best for us,” you said.

On a day like any other, perhaps in the summer,

Again and again your lies reared their ugly head.

“I loved you, and want nothing but the best for us,” I sighed.

Our demise was incoming, yet, a rebirth even sooner.

I relinquished the times where I was the swooner.

The control you had exists no longer.

I am free from chains disguised as infatuation,

I can love myself with no act of suasion.

On a day like any other, perhaps in the spring,

I no longer had your love to lead me astray.

I love myself, and all I’ve reclaimed.